


Sommeliers and Chocolatiers

by helens78



Category: Kitchen Confidential
Genre: Character of Color, Community: kink_bingo, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-12
Updated: 2009-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-05 07:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months ago, Seth might have maybe done something stupid and not apologized for it.  But they're about to be working together, so it's time to bury the hatchet, right?  Not the knife.  Seth said nothing about knives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sommeliers and Chocolatiers

**Author's Note:**

> For the "knifeplay" prompt on my [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card. It's an unusual way to go with this particular kink, especially for me, but I desperately wanted to write these two, and this was a great prompt for it. :)
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the series, Teddy Wong ("Fish Genius") is played by John Cho (aka Hikaru Sulu of _Star Trek XI_) and Seth Richman ("Pastry Chef Extraordinaire") is played by Nicholas Brendon (aka Xander of _Buffy_). The series was pretty damn great (gotta love Fox and the way it cancels everything good; it's like they have a vendetta against good things); you can see it in its entirety [here on Hulu.com](http://www.hulu.com/kitchen-confidential).

It's been four months--four months!--and Seth had all kinds of willpower, but now, not so much. Seth caves like a big caving thing that caves; he caves so hard you could call him a spelunker. He calls Teddy as soon as he gets home.

"Who the fuck is this?"

Seth wonders if the caller ID on Teddy's cell phone is broken; why would he be asking that? "Um... it's Seth."

There's dead silence on the other end of the line. Seth clears his throat.

"So I hear you're going back to work for Jack Bourdain."

Still silence.

"He asked me to come work for him, too. So I thought, well, before we see each other in the kitchen, um..." One would think, having caved far enough to call, Seth could man up and also apologize, but the words stick in his throat. "So _anyway_, we start day after tomorrow, and I guess I'll see you there."

His thumb is halfway to the "end call" button when Teddy says, "My place. Two hours."

Seth muffles his "yes!", but he fist-pumps; it's not like Teddy can see it.

"I'll see you there," he says into the phone, and hangs up. He drops his phone into his pocket and rubs his hands together. Two hours. He'd better pick out something to wear.

* * *

Seth ends up wearing jeans and a grey button-down shirt, and since he's not about to trust his evening to New York traffic, he leaves as soon as he's showered and dressed. He gets to Teddy's apartment building forty-five minutes early, and he paces around outside until forty of those minutes are up.

"Five minutes early, that's not a big deal, right?" he mutters, and he punches the intercom for Teddy's apartment. "Teddy? It's Seth."

Teddy doesn't say anything, but the door buzzes and Seth's able to walk in. At the elevator, he walks past a guy with great shoulders and a fantastic ass, and he glares at the guy's ass as he walks away. It would be just like Teddy to have him scheduled after an act like that, an act he can't possibly follow.

The elevator doors slide closed, and Seth sighs. _You're being paranoid. Just shut up and go upstairs._

It's pretty good advice, so Seth takes it, and he lands at Teddy's door less than a minute later. He knocks, and the door swings open immediately.

"Hi," Seth says. He looks Teddy over. Teddy's wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, he's barefoot--

\--and he's holding his Four-Star 7" fillet knife.

Seth feels a little weak in the knees. He gulps.

"Uh, can I come in?"

Teddy gestures--_with the knife_\--back into his apartment. Seth walks in, and Teddy shuts the door behind him.

"So Jack's back," he says, turning around so he can look Teddy in the eyes. "I, are you--are you cooking something?" He doesn't smell fish, but Teddy's still holding that knife. It looks sharp. Really sharp. Of course it's sharp, it's one of Teddy's knives, it's not like he lets them go dull, but still, it somehow looks sharper than usual, given that they're not in a kitchen.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I distracting you?" Teddy asks. He grins and spins the knife around, like a heavy-metal drummer spinning a drumstick, only with more points and sharp edges. Seth gulps.

"Maybe... a little," Seth admits. "I'm kind of really hoping you're planning to cook something. Or at least, bear in mind that I'm not aquatic, and you're the fish guy, not the red meat guy. I mean, seriously, I can't even swim."

Teddy grins, and Seth takes an involuntary step back. He remembers Teddy being ruthless, but he doesn't remember Teddy being quite this _scary_. Teddy doesn't get any less scary as he reaches out--free hand gripping Seth's shirt at the hem--and slips the tip of his knife underneath the lowest button.

"Hold still," Teddy says.

"Considering where, exactly, you've got that knife..."

Teddy grins, and then with a tiny, precise flick of his wrist, the first button's gone and he's moved his knife up to the second.

"That's, ah," Seth says faintly, trying not to wobble, "that's new."

"Do you like it?"

"You have a sewing kit, right?"

Teddy flicks his wrist again, and the second button goes flying. "Do I look like I'm thinking about sewing right now?"

"Not exactly," Seth murmurs, and _pip! pip!_, off go the third and fourth buttons. That just leaves one--for all that Seth knows Teddy's precise about cutting things, he's still glad he didn't button the top two buttons on this shirt--and Teddy slips the tip of his knife underneath it, holding onto the edge of Seth's shirt to keep the fabric taut. He comes in closer, flattening the blade against Seth's chest, and Seth closes his eyes as Teddy kisses him.

Kissing with bladed objects nearby isn't new--they're cooks, for God's sake--but having one trapped between them on purpose, one that they're not rushing to put down so they can get to the important business of fucking, _that's_ different, and Seth holds very, very still, just letting Teddy kiss him any way he wants. Teddy's just as warm as Seth remembers, and he's every bit as determined to control that kiss as Seth remembers, too.

Teddy pulls back a fraction of an inch, and the knife moves, and Seth feels his shirt open up completely. Teddy smirks.

"Done now?" Seth asks, eyebrows raised.

"Come on. Bed."

Seth lets Teddy push him toward the bedroom. When they get there, Seth realizes Teddy's _still_ holding the knife. He looks at it, then back at Teddy.

"Boy, I was really hoping we were done with that..."

"Not just yet," Teddy says. "Turn around."

"You want me to turn my back on a man with a knife."

"And that's different from the nine thousand times you did that at work today because..."

_...I didn't cheat on any of them with a sommelier?_ "Teddy, please."

Teddy gestures with the knife. Balls quickly shrinking up into his body, Seth turns and spreads his arms out to the sides.

"Oh, that's nice. Keep your arms like that."

Seth feels Teddy grab the back hem of his shirt, and he winces as he hears the soft ripping noise and feels air on his back. "Oh, man, this was a decent shirt..."

"And now it's two halves of a decent shirt," Teddy says, grabbing it at the collar and cutting through that with a fast jerk. Seth drops his arms, and both sides of the shirt fall to the floor. Seth turns back around, and he puts his hands up when he realizes Teddy's eyeing his pants.

"No no no no, _no_, I draw the line at my pants." Seth unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, and he shoves both his pants and his boxers down and off, cursing and kicking his shoes off as his feet get tangled up in all of the above. He slips his socks off, too, and when he stands back up and Teddy's _still_ holding the knife, he wonders if being naked around a grudge-bearing chef with a seven-inch blade was really the best idea he's ever had. "Um. Are you sure you don't want to put that knife down?"

"Aw, is the widdle pâtissier afraid of sharp things? Should I go get a spatula instead?" Teddy puts the knife down on the bed and strips out of his shirt, and any of Seth's protests about pâtissiers using _plenty_ of sharp things, thank you very much, die on his lips.

"You've been working out," he says. Oh, shit, and his voice is in its upper register, full giveaway that this is turning him on more than he's admitting. His dick's definitely getting into the game, too. He swallows. "I mean."

"You didn't think I was just sitting around waiting for you, did you? I mean, after the first month, I figured you weren't going to come back and grovel."

"No, I--" _should have_, he thinks. "Um. Is it too late? I can do a belated grovel..."

Teddy grins. "Give it a shot. Let's see where it gets us."

Seth tries out his best cute-as-a-button smile. "Do you prefer the full-kneel grovel or the bent-over-something grovel?"

"I think I want to see you on your knees."

Seth goes, crawling over on his knees to Teddy, pressing his face against Teddy's thigh. "Theodore," he murmurs, nuzzling Teddy's right thigh and then moving to his left, "I am _so sorry_."

Teddy gets a hand onto the back of Seth's neck and pulls his head back. "For...?"

"For not calling."

"And...?"

_Shit._ "For being a jerk?"

"Specifically...?"

Seth sticks his lower lip out. "_You_ know."

"Yeah, but I want to hear you say it."

Seth sighs. "Fine. I am sorry for cheating on you with the sommelier at Artino's."

"A fucking _sommelier_! The man doesn't even handle _food_! He sniffs old musty corks and--and drinks!"

"And he wasn't a genius in the kitchen and never once offered me tuna that made me promise him my first-born," Seth says hurriedly; Teddy's got that crazy look in his eyes that reminds Seth that his knife is easily within reach. "Teddy, c'mon. You're the--my--thing," he sputters. _Shit, shit._ "My, um--"

"Your _thing_," Teddy mocks, grinning. "That's so sweet, Seth. Nobody's ever called me their thing before."

"I'm under a lot of pressure here!" Seth points out. "Also, your dick's, like, three inches from my face and I'm _naked_ and this is all a little distracting!"

Teddy sighs. "Okay. You may have a point there." He unsnaps his jeans, unzips them, and oh, damn, he's not wearing any underwear. Seth licks his lips as Teddy gets his cock out. "I'm going to _let_ you suck me, and I'm going to let you get away with calling me your _thing_\--which is _dismal_ groveling, by the way--but _only_ because I'm betting you still give spectacular head."

Seth beams, which lasts for about 0.54 seconds before Teddy adds, "...for a pastry bitch."

"Hey, screw you, fish boy--" Teddy glances over at the bed, and Seth grabs his hand and smacks it onto his cheek. "Hey, ready to suck dick here. No more pointy things." He sticks his tongue out and flicks it over the head of Teddy's dick, and Teddy shivers--_gotcha, you cephalopod-slicing bastard_\--before getting a grip on Seth's head with both hands and dragging him forward, pulling Seth's warm, open, ready mouth onto his dick.

It's been a while for Seth. Not a full four months, but a while. He hums happily as he takes in more and more of Teddy's dick, moaning at the way Teddy tastes, smells, the feel of Teddy's dick against his tongue--it's all fantastic, a perfect combination that sweeps through his senses. Dick is, in point of fact, the best meal you don't actually _eat_, Seth thinks, and he swipes his tongue against the underside of Teddy's dick, licking back and forth until Teddy starts groaning at the motion.

Teddy holds Seth's head still and rocks in, quick and deep, and if it's a little rougher than their usual, well, it's been four months and Teddy has justifiable reason to be pissed off. But God, Seth _missed_ this, missed Teddy, and he reaches down and starts jerking his own dick in time to Teddy's thrusts.

"Don't--" Teddy groans, and he has to hold Seth's head in place while he starts over. "Don't come on my carpet."

Seth lets out a disgruntled--well, grunt, and stops jerking himself off. Teddy groans again, and he pulls back and thrusts back into Seth's mouth again--and again--and Seth knows that rhythm like the back of his head, knows it like he knows the recipe for lemon sponge cake, and he braces himself for it as Teddy comes, hot and forceful, his come hitting the back of Seth's throat. Seth's done this enough he doesn't even choke, which is definitely to his credit. He bets whoever Teddy's been screwing in the last four months choked a _lot_.

Teddy drags Seth to his feet once he's done, though, and he shoves Teddy back onto the bed. "That was good," he says. He's sweating a little, hair damp at the roots, and Seth grins at him, smug as hell for perfectly good reason. "Your turn."

"Yippee." Seth keeps grinning; Teddy comes up on the bed with him, straddling his thighs. He winces and glances off to his left, and Seth looks down with him--damn it, there's that _big fucking knife_ again. "Oh, God, you didn't cut yourself, did you?"

"I'm fine." But Teddy picks up the knife and, keeping it blade-out, perpendicular to Seth's thigh with the blade, thank God, pointing _away_ from Seth's dick, braces that hand, knife and all, on Seth's left thigh. Seth notes that the edge on the blade is facing away from Teddy, which means it's facing _toward_ Seth. Sure, it's flat-down, not in cutting range of anybody, but--

\--but he stops thinking about it as soon as Teddy wraps a hand around his dick and starts stroking. "Ohhhh," Seth breathes, "oh, God, you still have the best hands in the business..."

"Better than a sommelier?"

"_So_ much better," Seth groans. "Please, c'mon, I'll be good, I promise, more..."

Teddy speeds up just a little, hand twisting under the head of Seth's cock, grip going a little tighter. "Like that?" Teddy murmurs.

"Yeah, _yeah_, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon..."

"That's it--come on, Richman, you can do it, say it, _say it_\--"

"--_please_\--"

Seth comes half-off the bed as Teddy's speed hits just the right point, as Teddy quickly pulls the hand holding the knife off Seth's thigh, and _no_, he is not seeing that, he is _not_ seeing Teddy moving the blade so Seth's come falls over it, he's _not_, and he squeezes his eyes shut so he can just finish coming without a great big piece of come-covered carbon steel being the last thing he sees as he completely fucking loses it.

He collapses once he's done, and Teddy chuckles down at him. Seth gets one eye open; Teddy's already climbing off him. "Where are you going?"

Teddy holds up his knife; Seth winces. "Dude, you have gotten so fucking kinky in the last four months--who have you been screwing around with?"

Teddy grins. "A chocolatier."

Seth's heart thumps _hard_ in his chest, and he scowls up at Teddy. "A _what_ now?"

Teddy holds up both hands--even though one's still holding a knife. "It's been over for weeks."

"You went from _me_ to a _chocolatier_?"

"You let a sommelier bend you over a dessert table!"

Okay, Seth doesn't have a good response to that one. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares. "You want chocolate, you talk to me," he says.

Teddy grins at him and comes back to the bed, just long enough to kiss the pout off Seth's face. "I promise," he murmurs. "I'll just get this cleaned up..."

Seth sighs with relief. "Finally."

"I do own a few spatulas if those are more your speed." Teddy shrugs as he heads for the bedroom door. "Rick always said chocolatiers are more adventurous than pâtissiers."

"Unfair, _unfair_," Seth yells after him. "I am _ten times_ more adventurous than Rick the _candy maker_."

"Gonna have to prove it," Teddy yells back.

Seth crosses his arms over his chest and sulks. _Prove it. Fine. Like you're the only guy with a seven-inch knife in his arsenal._ He goes over a mental list of his tools and frowns; he fishes his phone out of his pants and makes a quick note.

_10am Thursday: Trip to Williams-Sonoma._

He's put his phone away by the time Teddy gets back, and he grins as Teddy drags him off to a shower. He's already planning out a new dessert in his head: a flourless chocolate cake so rich it'll put any goddamned chocolatier to shame.

_-end-_


End file.
